Dark Heart

An Eberron story...

We invest further into Dura and Sarshon’s tower. After finding Sarshon to be out on business, we ask around again for Modra. A barkeep tells us of Jarek Jarken, a goblin who was once a close partner of Modra’s. As we asked around the barracks, a slight social guffaw from Ash gets us knee deep in a good ol’ fight with a band of thugs known as the Bonecrusher Gang.

*These words were taken from the journal of Leonora D’Cannith, The Keymaster and One of the Emissaries of Light.

Unable to stand long in surprise, the others and I quickly attunded ourselves to the key, placing the foreign device to the portal where the dark one had just vanished through just a moment ago. The black and purple energy swirled around the key Algernon grasped and quickly surrounded the party. I remember the swirls moving around us, encircling us in a snare of a familiar magic. We were about to be transported to the Land of Shadow: the plane known as Dura. The swirly stopped suddenly, frozen and then the strands began to glow and blinded us with a burning white light. The feeling of traveling felt much different than our portals created by Voren Earthmane; the travel felt more foreign and I felt a twinge of fear as strange voices echoed in the distance. Luckily, the trip didn’t last long.

Upon first laying my eyes on the dreary landscape of Dura, I felt incredibly excited about being able to witness all the books of information and stories of journeys into this plane, which I had read in my lifetime, unfold. The others weren’t nearly as excited except for Legion whose eyes wear set on the horizon, his focus so great I could not tell if he were devising his next plan of action or trying to remember if he had once visited this place. That look I have come to know all to well. Our sense heightened, looking out for the one who stole the key in an unfamiliar land, we kept our weapons at the ready and followed the trail towards a bustling village in the distant.

We had just crossed over the hill and were descending onto the village when a voice yelled at us from the guard post. We watched in alarm as two heavily armed figures approached us. Apparently we had stumbled onto a mercenary camp. And without having to raise a weapon, we were led through with a warning to not wander from camp—or else it would raise suspicions. And the half-orc guard made sure to point out that the guards of the camp were keen on attacking first, and asking questions later. The camp was small: only holding anywhere from 2,000 to 5,000 wanderers, mercenaries, shop keepers, guards and slaves. The place had four distinctive sections: a barracks, a market (filled with shops and bars), a training grounds and a slave district. But the camp was dwarfed by the large volcano in the distance, one that was obviously active as every hour the ground rumbled and shook and a spit of lava exited its top. A little closer to the village was an equally tall and ominous tower. images from the journal below

I greatly enjoyed the camp and its diversity (apart from the overall sleaziness of the crowd). There were humans, half orcs, halflings, goblins and about every race from under the sun. The markets were filled with devices and weird arcane artifacts and weapons of which I greatly wanted to stop and study, even bring home to tinker with; but ‘I must remain focused’ is what I kept telling myself. Stay on target.

Finding the dark one that ran off with our portal key was quickly taken off of our priority list when walking amongst the crowd, we spotted those twisted, metallic dragonish humanoids that we had fought with on many occasions in Sharn. This would be the place to start to find and question Modra.

We all followed our own expertise and split up to the different parts of the camp. Algernon took to the taverns, Legion traveled to the markets, Ash planned to talk with relaxed mercenaries in their barracks, while I wandered over to the training grounds. I set up in one of the rows of people practicing their archery and talked with a half-elf wearing a deep scar on his left cheek. I barely remember our conversation after I left; being too relaxed, I accidentally lit off flaming bolt that lit the training dummy on fire. Judging how the slave muttered some curse words and set out cleaning up the ashes after my mishap, he was accustomed to such behavior.

We met back at The Dragon’s Claw and pooled our information together. Unfortunately, no one we talked to had seen Modra for a couple weeks, but he was not held in as high regard as he once was around the camp or from his boss, Sarshon. Apparently, as told by a drunk to Algie, Modra had taken a deal that Sarshon had turned down, which made him most unpopular with the mercenaries wishing to stay on Sarshon’s ‘good’ side. We have focused our efforts to find Modra and halt trafficking of these problems and mercenaries into our world, whether we have to kill Modra or find a way to close the portal. The scope keeps growing and I only hope we can start finding answers soon. Dura is quickly losing its charm.

‘The very one. His journey took him to Malleon’s Gate, an old neighborhood in Charn.’

‘Charn? You mean… the Great City?’

‘Yes. The One and his allies searched desperately for a fiendish group known as Daask along with a vile mercenary named Modra.’

‘But, master? Why would the One pursue such vile creatures? What had they done?’

‘Simple, youngling. Somebody had been recruiting mercenaries, bloodthirsty warriors and monsters, in an apparent attempt to aid the Son of Khyber. The One hoped to track the mercenaries to the Son of Khyber himself.’

The elder reached out for his tea, sipping carefully. In the distance, the chanting of monks echoes.

‘To find these terrible creatures, Lord Algernon the Gallant and the Archdruid of Time disguised themselves as a rogue mercenary captain and his vicious war beast.’

‘The Archdruid did that?’

‘Yes, young one. You see, he was still a neophyte, full of emotion and fury, much like yourself. He had not become the legend you and I know him to be.’

The youth, fascinated, looks up to his master.

‘The One and Queen Leonora met with their old friend, the rogue Darik ir’Tain. They hoped he could provide them more information regarding these mercenaries. Luckily for all of them, their efforts paid off, as they heard rumor that the people they sought could be found at a small tavern named the Happy Beggar in the neighborhood of Fallen.’

‘And this is still in the Great City?’

‘Yes. But Fallen was no splendor or greatness. It was a part of the Great City known for cruelty and suffering.’

The youth gasps in surprise. ‘Oh! I never would have thought.’

‘Luckily for the One and the Servants of Light, the Happy Beggar had recently been acquired by the Devotees of the Silver Flame, who hoped to use their influence to uplift the neighborhood.’ The old man pauses briefly, taking another sip from his mug.

‘That is when a stranger approached the Archdruid and Lord Algernon. He told the brave ones about Modra, describing him to be a fiendish blackheart that would sooner stab a man in the back than give him a fair shake.’

‘That sounds horrible! Who was this mysterious stranger, Father?’

The old man shakes his head. ‘All in due time, my son. All in due time.’ He pauses. ‘Yet, as quick as the mysterious stranger appeared, he vanished. Lord Algernon spoke to the proprietors of the Happy Beggar, attempting to learn more about the strange location and how it may relate to his investigation.’

‘Yes, yes. Now, silence, and let me finish. The One and the Servants of Light went down the passage only to find themselves surprised by a steep ledge. They fell into a deep chamber. As they recovered, they realized that huge bat creatures had been hanging from the ceiling, waiting. The vile monsters swooped in to attack!’

The youth looks expectantly up at his master. ‘And..?’

‘The One and his allies bravely fight the bat creatures, deftly defeating them. As the last creature fell to Lord Algernon’smagic, the Archdruid took stock of the chamber. He warned his friends of the dangers that existed around them.’

‘Dangers?’

The elder looks sternly at his pupil. ‘Doomspores. Deadly fungus.’

‘Ohhhh.’

‘The One led his friends deeper into the cavern, uncertain of what dangers would await them around the next corner. As they proceeded further in…’

A great bell chimes from above. ‘But, alas. It is time for prayer. Hurry, young one, to the chapel. You wouldn’t want to be late again.’

The youth stands from his chair. ‘But, master! When will I get to hear the rest?’

In which dirty laundry is aired and a cover-up is arranged.

“Typical,” Legion said as he sheathed his sword. “Aberrant dragonmarks, necrotic lightning and vanishing into thin air. Nonsense, all of it.” Including the dismissive grunt at the end this was practically a speech for Legion.

“It could be worse,” said Algernon, “when we struck him down he could have become far more powerful than we ever imagined.” With a sly grin, he searched for a measure of laughter on the others’ faces, but received none. Leonora and Ash were both practically unconscious and even Legion was swaggering a bit on his feet. Algernon was the best off of all of them, having been beat on the least, and he still felt worse than the time we challenged a warforged to a drinking contest.

After helping to revive and replenish the party’s wounds and morale, talk was made on what to do next. Leonora seemed fascinated with whatever Eric was doing to the creation forge and began tinkering around with the half-finished results of that experiment. Algernon scurried back to the schematics room to see if there was any compelling evidence of new warforged prototypes being made at a large scale.

After about 15 minutes of searching and investigating it was determined that even though Merrix was breaking the wartime treaty by not shutting down his creation forge, that no large scale manufacturing operation was going on. New prototypes were being created in a small capacity with newer modifications, but nothing in a large enough quantity to field as a fighting force. Leonora also found that Eric Blacktree had been attempting to input a new design schematic into the creation forge in a gamble to output a new warforged.

“This thing is dangerous,” Algernon said cautiously, “Possibly the only active creation forge in the world, and the Son of Khyber knows where it is and how to get to it.” He shivered visibly, “Who knows what would happen if he could secure it. Maybe we should tell someone about this.”

Leonora appeared concerned, yet skeptical. “Giving this information out could be disastrous. Think of what the other nations would do if they found out that there is a functioning creation forge in the most secure part of Breland. Not only that, House Cannith is in a precocious situation right now. If Merrix were implicated in the scandal then power would tip to more unsavory and unscrupulous House leaders, and trust me, none of us want that.”

“Too much talking. I grow weary of politics,” Legion grumbled. Ash looked contemplative, but declined to offer his opinion on the matter. It made no difference, within minutes the guard Merrix was supposed to send as back up arrived and all controversial talk was hushed up.

Shutting off the arcane machine proved to be delicate work. Leonora and Algernon tinkered with the control panel until slowly, the humming of the waves between the two conductors died down and a clear path to the intruders was left. Legion charged the strongest man of the enemies: a human with an aberrant Dragonmark with his long hair scrunched into unwashed dreds. Leonora and Algernon quickly came back to the fray. Leonora kept her watch on Legion, giving him boosts and an aura of cold armor, also assisting in taking down the aberrant leader; Algernon sent his flares of lighting attack the handful of metallic dragon humanoids who were experience heavy punishment from Ash’s claws. The group was almost knocked back by the deafening blow of sonic blasts from the aberrant human; but after a locust blast petrified the dragon-like creatures, the leader became severely outnumbered and quickly overcome by the heroes.

After taking only a short rest to check the dead enemies pockets and temporarily patch up wounds, the group continued into the bowels of the forgehold, heading through the gaping hole in the wall of the room. But could have made such an large opening in the stone? An explosion? A monster?

As they turned the corner in the tunnel, a chasm of boiling lava lay in between their path; and just on the other were four large, grumbling stone elementals. Algernon perked up as he heard them grumble again in the Supernal dialect. Legion readied his sword but Algernon stepped in front of him.

“We don’t have to fight them. They aren’t on their side.”

“They made that giant hole in the tower of House Cannith didn’t they? I think it’s pretty clear whose side they’re on.”

Leonora and Ash stepped in too. “Legion please. I can tell by their actions. They seem upset like they don’t want to be here.”

“Yes, Ash is right,” Leonora piped in, “they were likely summoned here against their will. It is a common thing for a person skilled in magic with an evil purpose to do.”

Legion reluctantly backed down looking quite upset at the consensus of his comrades. “I’ll stand ready in case they attack. Conflict is best settled with swords.”

The group watched as Algernon using a series of hand gestures and snippets of horribly-pronounced sentences in Supernal, convinced the elementals to let us pass on in peace. He instructed that they use their anger of being trapped in the mortal realm against those that had summoned them here. Not wanting to endure Algernon’s gloating, he grasped the amulet around his neck and teleported onto the other side of the chasm.

“Hurry up! We don’t have much time to spare.”

Leonora, not wanting to risk the jump, teleported as well; while Algernon and Ash mounted grappling hooks and swung across with ease. But no item, no preparation, nor even their good mood from avoiding conflict with the elementals could prepare the group for what awaited them in the next room. A couple of familiar dark satyrs were wielding crossbows; a glowing-pastel colored monster glared back at the heroes; and one familiar figure stood at back tampering with the forgehold’s main panel, his aberrant mark glowing red on his face and his eyes grew red in anger as he turned towards the interruption. Aric Blacktree growled in anger and shouted.

“How did YOU know where to find me?! How dare YOU interrupt my plans!” He prepared a bolt of necrotic lightning, a pain that all remembered too well.

“WAIT!” Algernon cried.

“What the hell are you doing Algernon?!” Legion stepped up to him, " You can’t talk to him. You know he’s evil. We’re here to kill him."

“Look I just want to clear up a few things. See where he’s coming from.”

“I don’t see what we possibly have in common with him.” A frustrated Leonora answered.

Algernon ignored his friends and addressed Aric directly. “I want to know Aric, what is your purpose? We have some issues with House Cannith-I mean, discovering a working forge after the war. We’re not too happy about this. So what is it you’re trying to accomplish.”

“I want all the Houses destroyed. They deserve death for shunning us aberrant. Death to the HOUSES!”

Leonora readied her crossbow, but watched as the weird, squat monster shifted and disappeared right into the solid wall. She remembered reading about beings like that-a dimensional dog, is what they’re called and they are bad news! She quickly steadied her focus off the hidden threat to Legion charging angrily at Aric, leaving all bewilderment behind and focusing on expending his growing rage.

“This time Aric, make no mistake, I will KILLYOU!”

“I’ve heard that before.” He laughed menacingly. With a bolt of his energy, everyone except Algernon felt the reeling shock of his power. Legion grappled with Aric and focused all his energy on bringing him down. Ash charged the satyrs engulfing them in a cloud of locusts, making them easy targets for Algernon’s lightning and thunder.

Just as the battle seemed over, the dimensional hound leaped out from the wall and latched itself on Leonora. Far from her comrades and her range attacks failing, Leonora fell unconscious. Seeing their leader fall, Algernon quickly ran to her side as the dimensional dog disappeared again into the walls. He couldn’t revive her and panicked as everyone was spent and had no way to heal their fallen comrade. Ash ran over to assist with Leonora’s revival while trying to stand between his friends and the last satyr; unfortunately, a crossbow bolt seething with dark magic hit Ash and he too was knocked unconscious.

Legion focused his last strength on taking down the injured Aric Blacktree, and with a final blow, Aric yelled in anguish, but disappeared into a cloud of purple smoke. The two remaining heroes turned towards the last-standing satyr, but he deftly escaped through the tunnel; but just as Algernon and Legion were taking after him, they saw 4 familiar elementals emerge and pummel the satyr to death.

Leonora and Ash almost fell into death’s hands, but with some quick teamwork and sacrifice by Legion and Algernon, everyone was safe, a little worse for wear, but safe to fight another day. Exhausted the group looked around the room, searching for clues as to Aric “The Son of Kyber” Blacktree’s plan. Leonora noticed a device and schematics that suggested Aric was trying to upload new instructions into the mainframe of the forgehold, something that would lead to a catastrophic end. Just as they finished looking around, a group of soldiers, sent as backup by Marix arrived. Everyone scoffed at their horrible timing; but presented the situation to them and asked to be led back to Marix. The night was not over yet.

The afternoon before the ball was filled with panic. The four each took long showers and scrubbed viciously to try and rid themselves of the smell of 2 days worth of adventuring in the sewers and walking for hours in reeking mud and frogmen waste. The tailor recommended by the ir’Tains also delivered their fitted fancy clothes for the ball: a sky-blue silk dress and earrings for Leonora; Algie proudly accepted a fashionable maroon sky-captain coat with gold buttons and cuff links, white slacks and knee high brown leather boots ;an earthy-patterned suit with wooden tassels and complimentary pants for Ash; and Legion was very happy to receive a duplicate of his burlap clothes and cloak with black leather boots and accessories.

About an hour after the tailor’s departure, an escort knocked on the door and offered to lead the party to the sky way platform, preparing for departure for the ball. The aircoach trip to the mansion was very relaxing; the heroes were thankful for the silence since they all recalled the last trip involved being chased by flying goblins and attacked by an altered Aric Blacktree. The coach went high above the city and landed at a large mansion floating on a bed of clouds.

Everyone exited the coach and found themselves stopped at the front door. A somewhat snooty man greeted the heroes and stopped Legion and Algie:

“Gentlemen, please remove your weapons and check them into this holding area. There are no arms allowed at the gala.”

Legion rolled his eyes in annoyance, but unstrapped his sword and dropped the heavy weapon in front of the usher. The noise did draw a commotion of whispers and giggles from the other guests entering the ball. Algernon looked down at his freshly cleaned winged dagger that he had so carefully hook on his belt and turned away from the usher.

“Thanks,”he smirked, “but I think I’m fine with keeping it. I may need it to clean my fingernails once I get bored of this party.”

The man quickly stepped in front of Algernon before he could walk through the gates. “That’s very funny sir, but I can’t allow ANYONE to bring in ANY weapons.” He raised a finger that motioned to a pair of armed guards at the gates. Algernon raised his hands in defeat and began to unstrap his weapon.

“Thank you sir.”

Algernon handed the usher the hilt of his dagger and with a glint in his eye, sent a small charge of lightning through his dagger. The man yelped in surprise and looked back at Algernon in disgust:

“Was that really necessary?!” He huffed and returned to the table. As the group enters, they are greeted by Darek ir’Tain.

“Thank you so much for coming to this ball. I’m honored that you’re attending. Please, enjoy the refreshments and the company. Your table is right this way.” As quickly as he greeted them, Darek excused himself to visit other guests, promising to return later. There are fancy people, dressed nice with their noses in the air. Luckily the group finds the table and try to smooze with the rich and powerful. Algernon and Ash leave together hoping to impress the high maintenance ladies of the rich families. Legion sits quietly at the table, while Leonora finds and greets Marix D’Cannith, who returns her greeting but with far less interest. They all manage to return to the table before the grand introductions began, where they were soon
led from the comfort of the table and up in front of the crowd by Darek ir’Tain. He introduces us as the guests of honor and regales the guests on the fight against the Mourning Haunt in the Cyrean Tower. The tale feels very embellished as Darek makes dashing accounts of his bravery and leadership in the fight (none of which the heroes recall) and finishes with the victorious beheading of the nasty creature. Everyone claps politely, and Algernon makes sure to flex and wink at the girls at the closest table.

New interest of the guests of honor inflated and made their table even more desirable as a handful of politicians and other important figures sat with them and introduced themselves: Thurik d’Vandi, a gnome official who overlooked the (name) region and Surec Sensos, a half-elf politician in chrage of (name) region. They congratulated the group on their heroic efforts and offered their services of influence should they ever need. Another official butted into the conversation: a changeling official named Kilk, who tried to sound offended from being left out of the fun by his friends. Thurik and Surec, briefly introduced Kilk as the official that presided over (name of region) in Sharn. The all were interrupted by the arrival of food. As the officials and heroes sat down to eat, a woman rushed up to the table to claim the last seat; she pushed through in order to sit next to Legion. Algernon and Ash grumbled at their back luck, she was pretty, but for some reason seemed very interested in Legion.

“Hi, everyone, my name is Jael Valash. I am one of the wealthy business owners in Sharn and one who would have been greatly affected if that tower would have collapsed. I thank you for your bravery.” Everyone nodded in approval and returned to eating. She picked up her silverware and began to delicately cut into her meal as she continued to try and move the conversation along.

“So how did you all meet? Did you know each other before that tragedy at the Cyrean Tower?”

“We’re all met on the Day of Mourning actually,” gloated Algie trying desperately to grab more of the woman’s attention, “It was really weird, but we all met that day and were part of the war, just going about doing our duties and then, BAM! It sounded like the sky erupted around the boarder of Cyre. We’re lucky to be alive.”

“That’s very interesting Algernon.” She turned her attention back to Legion. “Tell me, where did you get that amulet of yours.”

“It was a gift.” snorted Legion.

“A gift,”she pondered, “a gift from who?”

“Gydd Nephret. He didn’t want it anymore. I thought it looked interesting.”

“He just…gave it to you!” She didn’t sound angry, but more appalled at how easily the amulet was acquired.

“Yes. He’s a friend.” said Legion firmly. Seeing as she wouldn’t have any more questions answered, she quieted and returned to eating.

The group was full of food and all worn out from listening to gossip and hearing politicans babble on and on. Leonora noticed a messenger run into the dining room and straight for Marix, who after listening to the boy, stared in the group’s direction. Leonora quickly turned around hoping he would stop staring. Algernon was planning one final attempt at picking up a rich lady when they were interrupted by an approaching Marix d’Cannith.

“It seems an intruder was captured snooping around the lower levels of my forgehold. We have him in custody, but he asked for your four by name.”

“Who is it?” Ash asked in alarm.

“I don’t know,”Marix answered, “he’s a shady fellow, that’s all the messenger told me. We have him in our interrogation room at Cannith Tower. If you would please meet me there after you change and reclaim your weapons, that would be most helpful.”

Before everyone could rush along, a sneaky figure came up behind Marix:

“Forgive me for overhearing, but I believe my services could be used for this manner.” Marix glared at the eavesdropper. ” What do you want Dolen?”

“I believe my skills as an inquisitor may be of use in this situation.” He turned towards the heroes and introduced himself with a sleek smile. “I’m Dolen d’Vandi. I’m pleased to meet you. I would be happy to assist.” Marix sighed at the intrusion but agreed to have Dolen come along. Everyone quickly departed and met up a little later at Cannith Tower.

Walking past much security and guards, the heroes are lead to a dim room with a man tied to chair sitting still in the center. Legion and Algie instantly lunge for the man as he lifted up his head and cackled, revealing himself to be non other than Aric Blacktree. Four guards quickly stepped in front restraining Algernon and Legion from unsheathing their weapons.

Aric laughed, “Hahaha, well my friends, their are going to be many more surprises for you tonight.”

Algie stepped passed the guards and approached Aric, promptly punching him in the face before beginning the interrogation.”Why are you here? What evil purpose were you trying to fulfill by breaking into the forgehold?”

Legion stepped up behind Algie and glared down at Aric; it was keeping all his restraint from not beheading him here-but he may have some information first. “I would answer truthfully if I were you.” he growled.

“The Son of Kyber. He’s planning a raid into the forgehold with House Tarkanan.”

“Impossible,” piped up Marix,”there’s no way anyone could pass our security to make it to the bottom forge.”

“Ahhh, but the Son of Kyber is clever, sir d’Cannith. They’re entering into the chamber from beneath.”

“Why?” Algie glared and motioned for Legion to unsheathe his longsword.

“Oh, but didn’t you know? That level of the forgehold is especially for manufacturing sentient warforged.” He smiled slyly at Leonora who turned around and glared at Marix.”They should be through to the ground level by now. I would hurry if I were you.”

The team quickly ran out of the room having Marix lead the way to the express elevator that took them down to the deepest chambers. It was muggy and the floor had pools of lava, but Marix led them safely around the passages and different chambers until they reached the entrance into the main forgehold. The entrance was a large door guarded by a pair of soldiers, but the door was open and there was no sign of the guards; no traces.

“Thats not good. They never leave their posts.” Beyond the door was a large section of glowing runes on the floor.

“Hey, can’t you shut those off?” Algie motioned to the glowing ruins.

“I can’t D’Lyrandar; that’s our defense alarm.”

“Well it certainly worked.” scoffed Legion. “Let’s proceed. This will be no easy task, but I’ll get to kill many evil beings today. I can feel it.”

As the group carefully trudged off, Leonora stayed for a moment more. She turned to Marix with disgust in her eyes,” How dare you?! After all that I’ve been through because of the war, you would dare try and break the treaty and bring further death and conflict.” She stepped forward and forced his cold eyes to face her, “If that’s the kind of secrets you want me to keep, I want nothing to do with you.”

She quickly joined her group, angered by her house leader’s betrayal; she loaded her crossbow and was preparing to funnel her anger towards whatever monster appeared in their path.

“Let’s try and not step on these. I don’t want to find out what they do.” Ash added cautiously.

Before anymore time could be diverted to comprehending the defensive runes, a suited-up dwarf entered from the perpendicular hallway carrying a large maul on his back. “Well now, looks like I may be getting a workout from you four. Let’s Play!” Before he moved, Ash used his thorn whip, wrapped it around the dwarf’s arm and pulled him towards the runes; unfortunately, the runes only glowed brighter once the large being stepped on them. Little did anyone know, the runes triggered a trap: a sharp swinging blade that sliced through the battlefield at intervals, luckily everyone kept wary of their position and avoided the swinging blade. The group focused their efforts on bringing the dwarf down until suddenly on either side of the wall, secret passages opened and out jumped two lizard-like creatures, each specialized in tricky tactics. They both tried many times to blind the group by throwing sand in their eyes. Luckily, everyone fought hard at they were able to clear the first room but only after defeating the dwarf who, in the middle of the battle grew three times his size to stand three feet at least about Legion.

Successful in battle, they moved forward towards the two passages leading further into the forgehold.

Leonora prepares for the ball, a place that will host the most powerful and influential people in Sharn. No doubt, the head of House Cannith would be there: Marix D’Cannith. She hadn’t seen him in a few weeks, at least not since the Cyre remembrance ceremony fiasco. She nervously thought what she would say to her house leader, being as it was him who so kindly offered her a job and place to stay after the Day of Mourning.

Interview with a House Cannith Leader:

Shortly after her arrival in Sharn, Leonora quickly went to House Cannith, looking for a home and possibly employment, using her skills as an artificer. She had the honor of sitting down with Marix D’Cannith, the leader of the Sharn House Cannith, in order to answer some pressing questions before being taken in.

” First: I’m sorry about what happened to your parents. They were terrific inventors and great people.”

“Thank you sir for those kind words. I miss them, but I think they would have wanted me to continue improving my skills and work.”

“I see. Well, what exactly are you looking for here?”

“I want a fresh start. I am looking for a new home, job, friends and city to experience; also new abilities and skills to learn from the master artificers here in Sharn under House Cannith.”

“I see. Well I must say, I’m also curious as to why you sought us? I heard your parents had business dealings with Zorlan D’Cannith. Why did you not seek him out first?”

Leonora tried her best not to hesitate with her answer: “I really was never fond of Zorlan. I respected my parents business dealings with the man, even though I had NO IDEA what exactly they were working on, and treated him with respect when he entered my home; but all that’s behind me. He was business partners with my parents. And now that my parents are dead, I want a new beginning.”

“And I respect that. According to the records you performed your duties well on the front lines outside of Cyre. One of the best and brightest in the army.”

“Thank you sir”

“But, Leonora, what I have to ask you next is the most important to me. I need someone I can trust,” he slowed his speech and looked Leonora straight in the eyes, “Since the destruction of Cyre, House Cannith has lost a lot and their are tensions rising, subgroups forming and people looking to dissolve this house with their varying opinion of how things should be run. Leonora, I need your promise that you will help me keep this house together.”

“Sir, after what happened on the Day of Mourning. I don’t want to be in another war or conflict. I am looking to keep the peace and try and start a new life. You have my support.”

“Thank you Leonora. My assistant can show you to your new place and set you up with a job right away.”

“Thank you.”

Ash’s and the Goshcalaw:

Ash kept to himself before the ball, thinking back to after the Day of Mourning and his return home to find his family slaughtered. He and Flint teamed up to hunt down the barbarians that killed their families and slaughter the whole group in revenge.